SOUTH AGAIN tioned my admiration for Marie Bashkirtseff as a person, and was so shaken by the torrent of abuse that I received from F., that I had recourse to the brandy-bottle for a few minutes to recover. I think, and still do, that F. is the most intelligent person that I have ever met. He seemed to have read everything that had ever existed. I had the sense to make notes of many of his views and of all the books that he men- tioned, all of which I shall certainly not live long enough to read. We read Fantomas, that series of French " bloods " in forty-two volumes, all of which Max Jacob and Cocteau have read. F. drew most beautifully and did two paintings of me which he never actually finished because he decided that he could not attain to the perfection of his original conception. He might have been a great artist if he had not been so intelligent and so critical. R. was a portrait painter of considerable talent and had had a good deal of success in Paris and, in fact, had made quite a lot of money, but being so far from anywhere and managing the estate, he did not paint very much. We motored into Cannes one morning to do some shopping and have some cocktails at a large hotel on the Promenade. It was filled with English and Americans; one could easily pick out the English as they all sat with small bottles of champagne in front of them instead of cocktails, a habit of which I thoroughly approved. F. heard from Francis Poulenc to say that he was coming to Cannes to stay with his Tante Lena, who was eighty, and F; wrote and asked him to stay with us for a few weeks.